SOS
by xXPageturnerXx
Summary: When Canada gets a phone call from Russia, will he go to help? Or will he let the poor, but scary, man be eaten alive! Rated T for violence, slight "maple"-language due to bad-ass Canada, and sujestive themes *wink*. Will Canada be the hero? Read to find out!


**Hello! Pageturner is back with what i hope is a cute RuCan one-shot that is dedicated to my own Canada and best friend :D Happy belated (really belated now) birthday Canada! I'm pretty much branching off of a scene in Hetalia season four…I think (lol my friends and I have arguments about when stuff happened all the time) I hope all of you like it. It was a rollercoaster ride trying to write this because I had a hard time getting into Russia's mind -.-' then to top it off, I decided to write it in third person, which I've never done before, so I hope it flows ok…anyway, read ahead and enjoy!**

**NOTE: I apologize for the terrible title -.-'**

* * *

[Somewhere in Canada…]

"Huh? You mean right now? I'm kind of in the middle of something…"

"Yes, now would be good." Russia answered back calmly.

Matthew sighed, "Alright, I'll be over in a few minutes, ok?"

"Please hurry, da?"

The phone clicked softly as Matthew placed it back on its charging dock on the wall.

"Who was that?" asked a small voice from behind him.

Matthew turned to see his pet polar bear, Kumajirou, sitting on the kitchen table…next to an empty plate that _was_ full of pancakes a few seconds ago.

"What the-? How'd you-? Oh maple, never mind," Matthew hunched his shoulders in defeat as he carried the plate to the sink and dropped it in, "It was Russia. He says he got his head stuck in a polar bear's mouth…I think."

Kuma tilted his head and looked blankly at Matthew. Even though polar bears were supposed to be fierce, Kuma had to be the most soft, lazy, mooching creature he'd ever seen or had the displeasure to know. One of the reasons Matthew had wanted him was to guard his home, but there was almost no one Kuma wouldn't let in, and even fewer he'd actually growl at.

The small cub stood up on his hind legs as Matthew walked by and grabbed onto his sleeve, "Don't come home too late," Kuma stretched up further and touched his cold, wet nose to Matthew's cheek.

The Canadian blushed and nodded, "Don't worry, eh. It won't take too long, I hope."

_~At least he's cute. That counts for something, right?~_ Thought the Canadian as he grabbed his coat, mitts, and hat, and headed out into the dry, early winter air.

* * *

By the time Matthew made it to Russia's house, he couldn't feel his fingers, his toes, or his face. The light layer of snow grew thicker the closer he got, but at least it was still easy to walk through.

He breathed into his gloves, trying to thaw his fingers one last time as he walked the rest of the way up the steps to the door. It looked like solid wood and was etched with delicate designs and different types of wood, stone, and metal. The house was more of a manor, like most other nations' Matthew knew, but the similarities stopped there. Towers topped with flags and gold nearly covered the sky over the manor and the flat, grey-white stones of the walls sparkled in the sunlight, as if it was built out of snow.

Matthew raised the heavy brass knocker on the door and let it hit three times.

The door creaked open slowly after the third knock and a weak mumble came from behind it.

"What? Is someone there?" The Canadian asked into the dark opening.

"I said 'run'. Run!" A small boy whispered as he peeked out from behind the door.

"What do you mean? I was called and-"

"Who's at the door, Latvia?" The Canadian was cut off by an eerie voice that seemed to float through the house.

The hair on the back of Matthew's neck rose at the same time that Latvia shivered visibly, "It is too late now," he whispered, then spoke louder, "Some foreigner, Mr. Russia."

"Well, let them in," The voice echoed again.

"P-please come in," Latvia opened the door wider and Matthew could see him shaking harder.

He stepped inside and jumped when Latvia slammed the door shut. It was cold inside, even though he was out of the wind, so Matthew left his coat on, but took off his hat and mitts.

"Mr. Russia is in the back yard, but he is in a kind of…um…predicament at the moment, so now might not be the best time…"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Matthew blushed and turned to face the small blonde, "I'm Canada. Russia called me to help him."

Latvia paled, "Y-you know how to help him? You do know that it is a polar bear on his head, right?"

Matthew smiled, "Oh, it's no problem, I live with one myself," he looked down the hall in front of him, lined with pictures, doors, and other hallways, that lead to a tall case of stairs.

"So, is he down…?" He turned to ask Latvia, but he was gone.

Matthew sighed and started toward the stairs. The hallway ended in a massive ballroom that had a curtained stage at one end and three incredible crystal chandeliers hanging down from the gold encrusted ceiling. The staircase he saw was one of a set of five that were spread around the room, a large, railed balcony connecting them all to other hallways and doors. On the floor level, between three of the stair cases, was a row of nearly endless windows. A set of glass doors led out to the back yard, which, like everything outside, was covered in a layer of snow.

There, lying in the snow, was a grey blob that Matthew assumed was Russia. He was quite far out and even at a run, it took a few minutes for the Canadian to reach him.

The bear was still clinging to Russia, but he managed to growl at Matthew's approach. Russia was on his back and opened his eyes at the sound, rolling them slowly toward the Canadian, "Oh, Canada, I am glad you came. Now, if you do not mind…?"

The polar bear growled and tried to drag its catch away from Matthew, making Russia wince.

"Ya, no problem," The Canadian cleared his throat and raised his hands, locking eyes with the polar bear.

It growled louder and began dragging Russia further back. Matthew followed, "I think you make it madder, da?"

"Shh. I need to concentrate incase it charges."

This time when the polar bear growled it lifted its head, momentarily releasing Russia. He dropped to the snowy ground with a thump, but didn't move. That wasn't what stopped the Canadian, though. The bear's muzzle was pink with Russia's blood. Looking around he could see splotches slowly melting the snow, and pink streaks in the places he was dragged.

"Maple! Russia I didn't realize you were so badly injured!" Matthew gasped.

Russia didn't respond, so the Canadian shook his head, taking a step forward and squaring his feet. The polar bear did the same, letting loose a roar to protect his 'kill'.

_~There's no going back now~_ He thought as he took a deep breath and ran forward.

The bear followed suit and they crashed into each other, the force nearly knocking them to the ground. Matthew tried to keep his feet planted steadily, but had to grit his teeth against the burning pain of the bear's claws digging into his shoulders and back. If he let the bear knock him onto his back, it was game over, no matter how strong he was, no one could survive getting their throat ripped out.

He closed his eyes and tried to remember where the pressure points were on a polar bear while its hot breath was warming the air by his neck in an unnerving way.

The Canadian took another deep breath as it growled, and twisted to send them rolling. He jabbed two fingers from each hand forward, targeting the bear's limbs first. The polar bear roared in pain as its grip loosened and it dropped to the ground in a flurry of snow. Matthew slid to a stop and pushed off the ground instantly, heading for the back of the bear. He slammed his fingers into points on its neck and along its back. The polar bear roared once more before going unconscious from the last point hit.

Matthew stood up, panting heavily and shaking with adrenaline. They had rolled away from Russia, but thankfully he could see Russia's clouded breath from where he stood. He brushed the snow from his pants and began jogging over to him.

Now that he was closer Matthew could see where the bear had attacked. Russia's grey trench coat was ripped along his right arm and side, and both parts were red with blood. His scarf was bloody, but his neck was free of puncture wounds. His blonde hair had a strange pink tinge to it from blood, so there were probably puncture wounds there from the bear's teeth.

Matthew knelt beside Russia on the ground and loosened his scarf to check how strong his pulse was.

"I am alive, da?" He mumbled through white lips.

The Canadian smiled, "You are. How are you feeling, though?"

Matthew helped Russia slowly into a sitting position. He grunted and his hand flew to his side, coming away bloody, "I am feeling like I got mauled by polar bear."

Matthew moved Russia's left arm over his shoulder and helped him to his feet. He gritted his teeth against the pain of the pressure on his own wounds, and that was when Russia saw the polar bear unconscious on the ground, "Did you do that, Canada?"

The Canadian blushed, "Well I-I guess I did, I m-mean, you needed help right?"

"Da, but how?" The Russian turned his head to face Matthew.

Matthew grunted and tried to shift carefully under Russia's weight, "I'm stronger than I look, I guess. I mean, my brother is America, if I wasn't as strong as I am, I'd be dead," He smiled at the memory of their annual water gun fights in the summer, "Come on. Let's get inside. You've lost quite a bit of blood and I'll need to dress your wounds."

Matthew thought he heard the Russian mumble something, but he was too focused on trying to walk straight to respond.

* * *

When they were finally inside, Russia directed Matthew to the kitchen. It was behind one of the doorways down the first hallway. Unlike the parts of the manor Matthew had seen, the kitchen was very modern, with shiny black and white surfaces, and chrome edging on almost every appliance and piece of furniture.

He set Russia down on one of the stools along the island in the middle of the room and began filling the sinks with soapy warm water in one basin and cold water in the other, "I'm sorry about your floors. I'm not sure how well blood comes out."

He turned to see Russia smiling, watching him closely, "It is not problem. Estonia likes to clean."

Matthew turned off the water and then began soaking a cloth. Russia's face was pale, but it looked like the bleeding might have stopped from his side wounds. They would dress those first, "Do you think you could take your coat off?"

Russia nodded and started to stand, "Da, I can do."

He began taking it off, but winced and stopped halfway, "Here, let me help. We don't want to stretch the wounds too much."

Matthew stepped closer and helped Russia stay standing, then carefully slipped off his coat and threw it onto the floor in the corner. Russia collapsed back into his chair with a shaken sigh. Even with a country's sped up healing, these would take awhile to close. The blood stains were larger now. They spread across his right side through the fabric of a tight blue turtle neck and the top of his pants, "I think we have to cut that off. There's no way to easily pull off a turtle neck…"

Russia nodded and smirked a bit, "Scissors are in top drawer by sink."

The Canadian found the scissors and was soon trying to carefully cut off the bloody fabric without stretching the wounds. When he was sure he had cut enough, Matthew began pealing the remaining pieces off.

He tried to be gentle, but Russia grimaced more and more, "Sorry, only a few more…"

"That is ok," Russia groaned, "You are good with your hands."

Matthew blushed as he pulled the last one off and threw it beside the coat on the floor, "There. Now, to get the dried blood off I'll need to wash it, so it might…maple, ok it'll really hurt."

Russia nodded as Matthew brought over the wet cloth from the sink and began to slowly clean the wound.

"It looks like the bleeding stopped," Matthew said as he finished cleaning the wounds. Five long gashes ran from Russia's shoulder to his hip. By the time Matthew had found the first aid kit, stitched up and wrapped the cuts, the sun was already getting low in the sky.

"There, I'm finished. Maybe you should eat something Russia. How are you feeling now?" Matthew asked as he stood up and walked over to the sink.

"I am feeling better, and I will eat something, but please call me Ivan. It is my name, da?"

The Canadian turned, "S-sure, Ivan. T-then, um, you can c-call me Matthew, if you want."

"Da, but I call you Matvey," Ivan smiled and nodded, "I like Matvey."

Matthew blushed, "W-well, uh, I guess I like Ivan to…?" He quickly turned around to drain the sinks and felt strong arms wrap around him, making him shiver.

"Da, that is good," The whisper brushed the hair by his ear and made his heart jump.

_~Maple, what did I get myself into?~_ He thought as a weight suddenly pressed down onto his shoulder. He gasped and flinched away from the pain.

"Is Matvey hurt?" Matthew felt himself being turned around and was soon looking up at Ivan. They were close enough the Matthew could see the tiny flecks of blue in his purple eyes.

He cleared his throat and tried to control his blush, "Only a little, on my shoulders, but-"

Matthew's sentence ended in a squeak as Ivan picked him up and sat him on the stool he was sitting on moments before.

Ivan unbuttoned Matthew's coat and slowly slipped it off his shoulders and arms. He threw it in a new pile next to his coat, and then picked up the scissors and began to cut off Matthew's shirt.

The Canadian's wounds were deep, but small compared to Ivan's. He only needed a few stitches and soon both of them were sitting at the island, a bottle of vodka in front of them.

"Da, it will make you feel better," Ivan said again as he poured two shots.

Matthew swallowed the lump in his throat, "I-I don't know, Ivan. I'm not really a sh-shots person…"

Ivan gave Matthew a pointed look and the Canadian sighed in defeat, picking up the small glass and tipping its contents into his mouth. Ivan did the same.

Fire instantly burned down Matthew's throat and he slammed the glass down coughing. Ivan laughed and poured two more.

Just then, a tall blonde boy came in and froze in the open doorway, "M-Mr. Russia? I-I heard voices and I saw the blood and-"

"Estonia. Please clean up, da?" Ivan asked without turning.

The boy, Estonia, nodded enthusiastically and picked up the clothing from the floor, practically running from the room. Matthew stared after him and took stock of their condition. Both countries were shirtless, but wrapped in bandages, and had messy wet hair dripping water onto their shoulders. There were even a few drops of blood on the floor and on the edge of the sink.

He couldn't help it, the laughter bubbled up in him at how scary they must look and soon he was shaking with it. Ivan looked at him strangely, but then began laughing as well.

* * *

Matthew couldn't remember how long he'd been there or how many shots he'd taken, but the sun had gone down awhile ago…and there was something he was supposed to remember…

They had long since moved up to the second floor. There was a bar up there…and they'd be out of Estonia's way while he tried to clean up their mess.

The alcohol buzzing through Matthew's veins numbed the pain in his shoulders and made him feel warm, and a bit dizzy, even though he was sure he should have been cold. He was comfortably wedged in the corner of a large black leather couch. Ivan sat across from him in a similar position and the coffee table between them was covered and overflowing with different shot glasses, salt shakers and two cut up limes.

Matthew was giggling at a joke Ivan had told when he felt his eyelids become heavy. They were starting to slide shut again when the couch dipped under new weight. He opened his eyes to see nothing but dazzling violet.

"Ivan?" He managed the slur, "Wha-"

He stopped as Ivan laughed and, somehow, leaned closer, their breaths now completely mingling, "You are cute when sleepy."

Before he could respond or react, Ivan pressed his lips gently onto Matthew's…and just like that Matthew remembered what he needed to do.

He pushed Ivan back and gasped, "Kuma! I need to get home and-"

Ivan silenced him with his lips, "You, will be going nowhere tonight da."

"But I-" Russia's weight crushed down on Matthew at the same time his lips did, this time moving them open.

He shivered as Ivan's hand slid down to rest possessively on his hip. Matthew's thoughts were quickly chased away as Ivan stopped kissing him only to pull them both upright. He wrapped his arms around the Canadian's waist and stood, lifting Matthew and pressing him closer.

His arms and legs wrapped around Ivan's body automatically, his fingers twining in his hair as he tried not to press his leg into Ivan's bandages too hard. He didn't seem to mind, though, as he groaned and kissed Mathew deeper.

The Canadian was vaguely aware that they were moving. He could feel Ivan's muscles bunch and shift under him.

Ivan broke away again at the same moment that cool wood was pressed against Matthew's back.

_~A door…~_ He thought hazily.

"Ivan, I really think I should go," he said, letting his head fall back as he tried to catch his breath.

Ivan pressed closer to him and kissed his neck, "Nyet, you are drunk and will stay."

He opened the door and then closed it behind them with a swift kick as his hands returned to the Canadian.

* * *

**Well, I'm a fan of the pairing now *.* thanks Canada *****heart***

**I hope everyone liked it, even if my attempt at writing a Russian accent was bad, and the story was less than realistic…but it's a story! And they're countries so…well, just don't go out and try to find the pressure points on a polar bear…please -_-' it would suck if you died...**

**Review please! I'm always wondering how I'm writing! Thanks for reading!**


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